


Pridelands

by dreabean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-20
Updated: 2011-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:57:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreabean/pseuds/dreabean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This isn’t the fucking Lion King but you live and you die by the pride.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pridelands

Title: Pridelands  
Author: Miss ‘Drea  
Rating: NC-17  
Word Count: ~14,300  
Beta: dehavilland  
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess, Dean/Jess, Sam/Jess/Dean  
Summary: “This isn’t the fucking Lion King but you live and you die by the pride.”  
Disclaimer: Singer, Gamble and Kripke own it all.  
Artist: vamptastic3a  
Warnings: angst, loneliness, character death (major character) and some violence. Also, incest and threesomes ahoy!

 

*

 ****

Part One

My name is Jess, she writes in messy script on the side of the building. Jess, never Jessica. She thinks for a minute before underlining the “never” a few times. My name is Jess. Jess, never Jessica. This is my name. I must not forget. She carefully dates it in smaller letters, June 6th, 2009.

She’s written on every building in the business district. All four hundred of them, carefully labeled and dated. It’s how she keeps track of the days, how she knows the months are passing. She sets her watch every morning by the almanac’s sunset time, but Jess knows that without her morning ritual, she’ll eventually be lost.

Every morning she walks through the old buildings, standing against the sky like tall grave stones in the cemetery of her city. Each one says something different, some silly phrase from her child hood (“I am slowly going crazy 1 2 3 4 5 6 switch, crazy going slowly am I 6 5 4 3 2 1 switch”) or something she never wants to forget (“Mom: 7.23.59 Dad: 9.1.53”).

The sun still rises each morning; and sets each night. Nothing has fundamentally changed in the world. She still remembers her mother’s birthday, her father’s birthday. She can remember Sam, her boyfriend of three years.

He’d left just before the KV Virus swamped California. He’d gone off with his brother to find their father and when she thought too much about it, in the dark, alone in their bedroom, she wonders if his father was infected first. They’d fought before he’d gone, she’d yelled that he was making a stupid decision and reminded him about his interview. Loudly. He assured her he’d be back in time. Then he wasn’t. (What if he wasn’t immune? What if he was dead? What if she never got to say good-bye–Shut up, Jessica!)

Jess has killed a number of Darkseekers since she woke up alone in Palo Alto. They could have been anyone. Zach. Becky. Brady. Even Sam.

It makes her sick to think of it, but after three years, she’s lost hope that anyone else has survived. Being alone for so long, she’s wised up to Palo Alto’s roads and sections. She lives in a house that’s part of a complex, surrounded on all sides by abandoned cars, all rigged to explode the minute she presses a button. She’s replaced the streetlights with UV lights, as an extra security precaution, but she’s never had to use them. Her generators are top of the line, or were, at the time they’d been manufactured.

The Darkseekers have yet to find her.

Back when she first woke up alone in Palo Alto, the first thing she had done was search for survivors. After finding none, despair crippling her, she went to the one place she felt like home. The zoo. The Palo Alto Zoo held a special place in her heart; Sam had taken her there on their first date. Every day that Jess lived alone in her huge city she went to the zoo.

It took four days for her to realize the animals were starving. On day five she breaks into Home Depot and finds the biggest industrial bolt cutter they have. She systematically breaks every dead bolt on the cages, flinging open the doors and ducking for cover. She has no desire to reenact the stampede scene from The Lion King.

At least, not until she gets to the Lions. They were her favorite place to sit by when she and Sam were dating. Her favorite was the lioness.

When she got to the deadly predators section of the zoo she brought steaks she stole from the nearest grocery store (is it stealing if everyone is dead?) And threw them steaks until she could safely get out of the enclosures. When she breaks open the lions cage she’s surprised to see a cub by the door, paint chips littered around him, staining his claws. She glances at the door to see huge score marks down the middle of it. He was trying to get out.

They all were.

The cub isn’t moving and she can’t tell if he’s breathing so she pokes him with the butt end of her bolt cutters. One eye opens slowly and he tries to get to his feet. He’s weak, hungry, starting to look mangy and Jess feels a pang of sympathy when she sees his twisted foot. The door opening and the cubs moving gets the attention of the rest of the pride and Jess quickly dumps the rest of her steaks just outside the door.

She makes her escape easily enough and when she’s driving her car away from the wreckage that is the zoo she can see the lions watching her go.

That was almost four years ago.

 

*

 

Now she lives on the outskirts of the lion pride’s territory, and she’s named them all. Zephyr is the alpha male. He’s huge and when she first saw him she thought maybe he’d been infected with the Virus too, he was that big. She crosses his path a few times, terrified out of her mind, but he doesn’t pay her any attention to her.

His mate she names Xarai, after a character in a book she once read but can’t recall the title of. Xarai is the lead hunter, she trains the other young females. She even trains Jess, though she’s sure the lioness doesn’t know. Xarai has three cubs, two male and one female. She wants to name them after Lion King characters but Jess doesn’t really want to name them after cartoon characters. Sam would never let her hear the end of it - if he’s even still alive.

She names them Ajax - a Greek god, Isis - an Egyptian goddess and Thor - a Norse god.  
Thor is lame, his back left foot twisted in a strange way. He can’t hunt, he can barely run. His mother spends most of her time protecting him.

Jess isn’t around to see what she does to protect him in the night. She has to protect herself, still. It’s getting harder and harder to survive, even though she’s been there for three years. One of the rooms she’s rigged as a freezer, and while she can keep the meat she stole out of all the grocery stores she could get into there, she doesn’t want to go through it too quickly.

She’s only twenty. She doesn’t want to die yet. (Not of starvation.)

She stares at her packages of frozen meats; hot dogs, innumerable hamburger patties, pork chops, veal, steaks, bacon, everything she could get her hands on in the first few weeks of being alone.

Then the power had turned off and she’d been forced to work double time to get all the meat she could, now she lives on iron pills and beef jerky. She’s gone hungry more than one night because she wanted to save what she could. (Her father used to tell her she was too skinny for her height, that she should eat more. She’s a little glad he can’t sees her now, because there are months when she looks like a corpse.)

That’s when she realizes she’s simply been existing, not surviving. It’s time to learn to fight back.

It’s time to learn to hunt.

 

*

 

She breaks the windows on every military surplus, gun shop and waits for the sunlight to flood through before entering. Most of them are empty.

Some of them are not.

The screams of burning Darkseekers and the scent of smoking flesh haunt her dreams for days after each fight. Jess picks around the bodies and chooses every firearm she can get her hands on. Palo Alto has a shocking amount of gun shops for the area. Once she cleans them out, her truck is full to the brim, and she feels surprisingly pleased, she never used to be a violent person.

She has thousands of boxes of bullets but she doesn’t want to waste them shooting cans in the park. She compromises with herself.

That’s what the paint guns are for.

In the end, once she stopped missing all the time and started hitting everything, the trees and bushes became a canvas, and the paint became a marker for her.

“I was here”, she writes, spraying paint across the grass. “I am here, still.”

Then, in a fit of amusement, she adds on the sidewalk, “the voices made me do it.” Sam’s favorite movie was Donnie Darko. After that, she carries a .22mm in a police holster she liberated from the local station, and a rifle over one shoulder. She reads everything she can get her hands on about guns and the varying kinds of makes and models. She’ll never have to worry about late fees from the library again.

She starts hunting, small things, rabbits, or squirrels which aren’t nearly as easy to shoot in real life as they were in The Oregon Trail 3D. She moves on to bigger things, the zebra and antelope and deer, Jesus there are so many deer, which are much easier to hit.

They’re bigger, at least but she still sucks at hitting them when they’re moving.

She’s stalking a zebra and its baby now, moving quietly through the grass, wriggling on her belly. Movement out of the corner of her eye catches her attention and she glances towards it.

It’s Thor, the lame cub, and he’s stalking the baby zebra, too, under the watchful gaze of his mother. Xarai isn’t hunting though, she’s lazing on the top of one of the abandoned cars, watching Thor romp. She doesn’t seem to be aware of any danger.

He treads too close to the edge of a building, and faster than her eyes can track, hands shoot out through the shadowy doorway and with a pitiful yelp, the cub is jerked inside. Xarai starts yowling, and the two zebras take off immediately.

Jess curses under her breath, her voice rusty from disuse. She stands quickly, and grabs her flashlight and shines it in the doorway, only vaguely aware of the lioness and the pride gathering somewhere behind her. She should be getting out of there, running in the opposite direction and hiding for the next day or so.

But the terrified bleating of the lame cub is tugging at her heart and she just can’t leave it there. She shoots out the windows on the first level of the building, it was a frat house at one point, there are movie posters just visible through the glass of the windows and sliding door, and abandoned beer bottles pretty much everywhere. She keeps shooting until the lions stop roaring.

Sunlight pours in, thankfully it’s beautiful out today. (Sometimes, on rainy days, Jess is too afraid to leave her house.) Jess can acutely feel the eyes of the Pride on her back as she surveys the various entries of the house. The terrified cries of the lame cub are getting fainter and if the Darkseeker gets into a basement, he’s done for.

Jess doesn’t think, she just goes and its like her movement is what the Pride is waiting for. She leaps through a broken sliding glass door and the lions charge after her. Oh shit, she has time to think, before a Darkseeker is on her, this was not my smartest plan.

The creature screams as it bites down on her upper arm and Jess has one second to shout before Xarai’s jaws close over its shoulder and rip it off. That probably hurts worse than the initial bite, and she yells again. There’s blood running freely down her upper arm and dripping into her hand, making it hard to hold onto the gun.

The lionesses are making quick work of the Darkseekers so she strains her ears for Thor’s cries. Basement, she figures. Definitely basement. She rounds the corner, sees the door and aims her gun as she does so.

She takes the Darkseeker holding Thor out by shooting him - it - in the back of its head. It drops the cub which immediately tries to crawl towards the door. Jess reaches him first, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. He swipes at her, catching her forearm with the claws of his good paw.

“Ow, you little fucker!” she hisses, hand tightening around him reflexively. “I’m trying to help you!”

She carries him out into the sunlight where Xarai and the other two lionesses are. Jess drops him and shoulders her rifle.

Looks like she’s going hungry tonight.

It takes her forever to get back to her apartment, her arm throbbing with each beat of her heart. She would have made a half hearted attempt at hunting but it’s getting dark and she doesn’t want to risk it. She settles for granola and yogurt but she’s always been anemic and iron pills don’t help.

She’s gone four days without meat and she’s caught herself chewing on ice cubes twice.

She can’t fail tomorrow.

At least they rescued Thor.

Only, the next morning, a few feet outside her perimeter of cars, lays a dead zebra, its throat torn out, and its blood is still warm.

Jess cuts it up into steaks right then and there. She throws the scraps to the lions and feels pleased when they get close enough to touch. “Thank you!” she calls to them. It happens twice more in the two weeks it takes for her wrist and shoulder to heal.

Then they have a routine.

 

*

 

Jess is painting a mural of her lions when she hears a call to arms. Its something she hears a lot of, because the deer have started to over run the area. All the nature programs said that lions only kill when they were hungry.

(The nature programs were wrong.)

She drops everything and scoops up her rifle as she follows the sound of Zephyr’s call. She drops to her belly, crawling through the long grass until she reaches the clearing where the lions tend to hunt.

She counts four lions, Zephyr, Xarai and the two adolescents: Kenda and Evani. Since Jess started hunting with the Pride, she’d noticed the differing territory lines. She lives in the Pridelands but the tigers who live in the business district are trying to widen their hunting ground. Her lions are having nothing of it.

Zephyr’s calling in another fight. Jess pillows her head on her arms and waits for something interesting to happen. When the fight finally begins, it’s over quickly enough that it’s laughable. The tigers outnumber the lions two to one, but Xarai has her girls trained well. The tigers run off with their tails between their legs.

Jess giggles and Zephyr’s head lifts to look in her general direction. She heaves herself to her feet, and salutes him with her rifle.

She has a mural to paint.

Jess had enrolled in Stanford University three years prior and while she’d been accepted and given a full ride, she’d chosen Art as her major. Her father had laughed but Sam had solemnly declared that it suited her. They’d moved into an apartment together and she’d started planning the rest of their lives.

Sam was the forever kind of guy.

They’d been together for long enough that he was a little predictable. So when his brother (what was his name again?) Showed up a few weeks before term ended, and took Sam off on a “hunting” trip... she was shocked and disappointed and angry. After Sam’s brother had gone out to the car, Sam had told her he’d be back by Monday, and he’d seemed so... different. It was his brother’s fault, she knew it.

He’d packed a few things and left without even a kiss good-bye. She’d yelled after him, and said a few things she didn’t mean. Sam just kept walking. That was the last time she’d seen him. There was a knock on her door early Monday morning, she thought it was Sam and like an idiot, opened the door without looking to see. It wasn’t Sam. She hopes what tried to walk through the threshold wasn’t Sam. It was like the whole world had succumbed to the virus overnight.

Originally, ten thousand and nine people had been given the vaccine, the miracle cure for cancer, the KV Virus that started it all. Then, twenty thousand and eighteen, and all of them turned into the creatures.

Science called them hemocytes, but had no explanation for why the KV Virus cured cancer but turned everyone into...

Hemocytes.

Vampires.

Zombies.

Darkseerkers.

Jess puts the finishing touches on Thor’s portion of the picture. After this, she’ll do her family, and one for Sam, with an apology at the bottom.

He’ll never read it but her last words to him will haunt her for the rest of her life.

Fine, you fucker, just go! I don’t need you anyway.

But she does need him. Now more than ever. Jess never thought she could survive on her own in the wild. Now she knows she can, but she’s fucking lonely.

Today she paints.

Tomorrow she hunts.

 

*

 

The truck she chose as her own can hit 120 mph when she pushes it on a straightaway. It’s the only time she can outrun the deer. Jess breaks sharply, spinning the truck 180 degrees, counting down under her breath. The deer burst around the corner on three. She aims her gun, breathes in again and shoots between heartbeats.

The deer squeals as it dies. She’s lucky... usually she misses.

Jess readies her machete as she gets out of the truck. Her lions won’t attack her for her kill, but the tigers will.

And, if she tries to bring the meat back to her place, the Darkseeker’s could find her. She has to cut up the deer where she kills it and package it there too. She strips everything, best not to ruin her clothes and begins hacking at the deer. Distantly she can hear the lowing of Zephyr which means they should be arriving shortly.

With no smog or pollution, the scent of blood travels alarmingly quick now. She doesn’t need much anyway, she’s only one person and she has to think of the Pride too. A few of the cubs venture close under the watchful eye of Xarai and Jess spares a second to think that before finding out she was the last person alive on Earth, lions watching her every move would be scary.

Now she tosses the pieces to the cubs and listens to them purr with a smile. Kenda creeps forward low on her belly and Jess gives her half a glance as she cuts into the ribs for the succulent meats there. Kenda’s jaw is wet with blood, she must have been hunting earlier. Jess doesn’t pay the young lioness much mind until she turns around to hang her newly made strips of meat and practically trips over her. “Balls!” she swears, over balancing and smacking into her truck. “Jesus, what the hell?” Kenda headbutts her thigh, nearly sending her over again.

“What do you want?” Jess demands, and Kenda makes it easy for her. She sticks her large head under Jess’s hand, where it’s been hanging by her side and begins purring.

Loudly.

Jess tentatively scratches her behind the ears. Other than the three cubs, all the lions had been born and bred in captivity... she supposes it makes sense that they miss human contact. Once Kenda has gotten the attention, Evani immediately begins pestering Jess for petting.

Jess laughs because this, this is a pretty good life.

Even if Kenda steals some deer meat.

 

*

 

Jess figures she’s in a fairly decent position, she and the lions have killed and eaten at least four deer this week, though most of her meat has been dried, or packaged and frozen. They’re gearing up for winter, except it’s Palo Alto and winter is more like fifty degrees, which she’s thankful for.

She could be stuck in New York or some place that gets really cold in the winter. Mostly she’s able to get by in jeans and a sweater. She gives half a thought to hitching a trailer on her truck and driving someplace else, trying to find other survivors, but the uncertainty of what else lies outside her city walls frightens her enough to stay.

She has the lions to think of. And her own life to protect. If there are others (and a numb, scared part of her mind says there aren’t any) if there are others, they can find her. She’s not smart enough to move on.

Praying to God every night, Jess whispers into the pillow “please let someone find me, I think I am going insane” but each day lies just as empty as the last.

Isis has started hunting with Xarai now, and Ajax has been missing from the group since early September. It makes her sad but Ajax is growing up, and he needs to find a mate in a different Pride. (If there even is one, she hopes he isn’t dead.)

They’ve moved their living area closer to her own, and she wonders if they protect her at night when she finally sleeps. She’s on the roof, fixing a leak in the shingles - something she never thought she’d end up doing - when she hears it.

She’s been living in the pocket of the lion Pride for almost six months, she’s noted and memorized each of Zephyr’s cries. This one says intruders and she thinks absently that the tigers haven’t tried to attack in a while.

That’s when she hears the voices.

 

 

 ****

Part Two

She almost falls down the roof in her mad scramble. She clears her ring of cars, running full tilt down the hill by her house and comes to a screeching halt just next to one of her painted murals. “Fuck,” she whispers to herself, because she left her goddamn rifle on the roof and if she’s finally cracked and the voices aren’t really people, she’s left herself wide open for attack.

Jess peers around the corner of the building she stopped behind and her breath catches in her throat. (It’s more like a sob.) There’s a familiar black car by the gas station just in front of her. Two men stand beside the car, one tall as a tree with longish brown hair, the other only slightly shorter with a leather jacket on.

She’d know them anywhere. Sam’s brother, Dean. And Sam. Her Sam.

They’re trying to fill the car up, but she emptied all the gas stations of their gas long ago. “Damn it,” the shorter one says to his companion. “This one is fucking dry too.”

Sam looks torn between being smug and looking sad. “The power’s been out for something like three years, Dean. I’m not surprised the gas stations are dry.”

Jess wants to say something, but she’s frozen, her feet rooted to the broken asphalt. “Sammy,” Dean says, “I am not leaving my car behind.”

Sam’s expression is long suffering and Jess is so very thankful they’re still together. “This is the fourth gas station we’ve tried in this city. Dean, we’re going to have to leave the car.”  
“Not,” Dean says sharply, “my baby.”

She decides they’re real, and if they aren’t, that’s just too damn bad. “I have gas,” she calls out, her voice loud and not a little rough. “More than enough for your car.” She forces herself to step out from behind the building, feeling terrified and inadequate. The man named Dean immediately points a rifle at her and Jess smiles a little. “I’m unarmed,” she offers, “I... uh, actually I left my rifle on my roof... I have a leak, and it’s going straight into where I’ve been sleeping so you know, it’s a little annoying. I usually don’t go anywhere without my gun but, I heard you... and... I’ve been here for almost four years.” She trails off, meeting Sam’s eyes. “Hi.”

The two men exchange a look. “You’re not infected?” Sam asks, his voice high with incredulity.

“No,” Jess says immediately. “I um... I seem to be immune. To both the blood strain and the airborne strain. I’ve been fucking bitten enough times.” She thinks of Thor and the rescue party. (The chunk in her shoulder tells a story in itself.)

Dean and Sam exchange another significant look that she can’t read. (She used to be good at this, people stuff.) “Hi Jess,” Dean offers, lowering his gun. Jess breathes a little easier because wouldn’t that be fucking perfect, survive all this time to be shot by another survivor like her.

“Jess,” Sam says softly, and Jess wants to hug them so bad she can practically taste it. “You have gas?”

She nods. “Gas, food, shelter and a Pride to protect us with,” she says, with a small smile. Licking her lips she eyes the car, it’s definitely a classic, beautiful and old in a way she hasn’t seen in a while. “Got enough gas to follow me?”

“Princess,” Dean drawls. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

As one, Jess and Sam roll their eyes and share a smile. “Come on,” Jess says. “I’ll take you to my garage.” She leaps over the partition. “The gas is there, or well... half of it.”

She has her Sam back. And maybe, they can forget the past. She probably shouldn’t trust them, they could be infected. But, she has the lions and she can feel them pacing just outside the edges of her perception, and if they make a wrong move, Xarai will eat them.

Maybe.

 

*

 

Dean parks his car, an Impala she notices now that she’s close enough to see, in the second space of her garage. They fill her with gas and Dean turns a baleful eye on her truck. “What the hell is this?” he asks, gesturing.

She lifts one shoulder (the unscarred one), in a shrug. “My truck. His name is Dresden.”

“It’s so... unchick like.” Dean sounds so bewildered that Jess laughs. It feels good, she hasn’t laughed in a really long time. She literally can’t remember when.

“It’s spacious. I can fit my arsenal in the back seat, and all the things I need in the bed.” She gestures. “I keep wanting to hitch the trailer,” she points to a tarp covered object in the corner of the garage, “and go... some place not here, but I can’t leave the Pride... and I wouldn’t survive very long without them.”

“The Pride?” Sam speaks and it startles her because he’s so damn quiet she forgot he was there.

She jerks a little, and notices that Sam flinches like she hurt him by jerking away. She frowns, chewing on a corner of her lower lip. “The lions,” she answers him. “Didn’t you notice they’ve been following us?”

Dean snorts something that sounds like laughter, but a lot meaner. “The lions?’ he asks. “Really?”

Yeah, Jess realizes she used to be a lot better at the people stuff because she can practically feel her ears pinning back. “Yeah, the lions,” she says in the same tone. Dean makes an affronted face, like he doesn’t enjoy hearing his own tone thrown back at him. “This isn’t the fucking Lion King but you live and you die by the Pride.” She turns, feeling a little foolish and almost runs into Sam.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Ignore him. He’s hungry and tired and when you combine those things, he gets cranky.” He reaches out and brushes his fingers through her messy hair. “Jess...”

Jess backs away, startled and gestures them out the door before dumping bleach around the area to mask their scent. She has enough gas in the garage to blow the whole city block to kingdom come, she doesn’t want the Darkseekers to find it. “This way,” she says, and leads them through the business district and into the college proper where her apartment is.

Isis and Evani are lounging on the edges of her stairway up, lolling their tongues in the heat of the sun. She scratches them both behind the ears as she walks up to the house, but they scatter with low yowls when she dumps bleach there too. “You weren’t joking,” Sam says, his quiet voice colored with awe. “You really do have a pride.”

Jess smiles. “Yeah. I do. Come on, I’ll make you dinner.”

It’s so strange to have two people sitting in her kitchen while she cooks. Even before the virus, it was only her and Sam and neither of them cooked much. Sam looks uncomfortable, sitting at the small, cramped kitchen table. He has a notebook out, and is studiously not writing anything in it but is doing a passable job of looking like he is. Dean is making no such overtures; he is openly staring at her as she moves from her pantry to her freezer back to the kitchen. She’d made venison stew a few days before, all it needs is to be heated up and she’d made some bread earlier that day.

“I have Jack Daniels,” she offers, “it’s in the other room. I don’t drink much but it kind of seems appropriate.”

They eat and drink too much, finding some sort of conversation topic that doesn’t make them all ragingly uncomfortable. (It gets easier the less Jack there is in the bottle.) Sam washes the dishes, and she and Dean play poker at the table, using M&M’s for money. Her watch begins to beep and they all freeze, because they all know what it means. Dean opens his mouth but closes it after looking at Jess.

Sam touches her shoulder lightly. “What do you do?” he asks, and she’s grateful. (She doesn’t really know why).

“Um,” she murmurs. “Dean can you check the front porch, and re-spray the bleach? Sam, go upstairs and start pulling the store sheets down over the windows, I’ll get the ones down here. Dean, when you’ve finished with the bleach, in the basement is the circuit breaker, can you turn the dial – it’s white with green letters - to one? We’ll still have power but we can’t use anything big.” She rubs her shoulder absently. Today, it aches. “Then, meet me upstairs in the master bedroo-” She trails off. “Fuck!” Jess says suddenly. “I left my fucking rifle on the roof!”

 

*

 

Dimly, she can hear the screaming of the Darkseekers as they sit by candlelight in the living room. She’s had practice at tuning them out and now she has a few more shots of Jack Daniels under her belt. And company. They’re playing a drinking game (Dean’s idea) and so far Dean’s losing. She’s never played before - it was probably some stupid thing she might have learned in college, but never had the chance to play. Dean calls it “I Never” and it seems backwards.

“Never have I ever...” Sam begins with a grin, “had a threesome.”

Dean growls and takes another shot. Sam’s had seven shots, Jess had three and the last shot puts Dean at ten even. Their topics have ranged from sex (Dean’s default), to school things (Sam’s default) to life experiences (Jess’s default.) Dean and Sam have lived interesting lives.

She feels boring. “Never have I ever,” she says when Sam’s stopped giggling at Dean, “never have I ever done anal.” She drinks with a broad wink, saluting Sam when he drinks too. (He should know, they did it together.) Dean, surprisingly enough, is the only who doesn’t drink.

Dean is staring at them both like they’ve grown a few extra heads and Jess hides a smile while she pours them more shots. Sam leans in and bumps his forehead against hers when he misjudges the distance between them. “Remember?” he murmurs and she laughs.

“Uh huh,” she says with a broad grin and a raunchy wink. “But a lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Have some more alcohol,” Dean rejoins immediately and thrusts the bottle at her with a disarming smile. She laughs, but he doesn’t.

They drink some more, until Jess’s next alarm goes off, the one that tells her it’s time to sleep. Dean is definitely drunk, and Sam isn’t looking much better off. Sam puts Dean to bed in her (their) guest bedroom, and says he’ll take the couch. It’s actually long enough, he adds with a smile.

He still has dimples and Jess melts a little on the inside.

She checks in on Dean as she walks to her room. She’s a trifle unsteady, and is using the wall to guide her down the darkened hallway. Dean isn’t in bed, and she feels a spike of alarm, she can’t hear anything in the room either. She peaks in, startling Dean. He’s standing by the door to the connecting bathroom, half dressed and squinting at her in her candlelight. “Y’okay?” he asks, his voice whiskey rough.

“Sorry for interrupting,” she says, a little shaky. “I just... needed to be sure, you know?”

Dean draws closer, putting the candle she holds on the bedside table. He pulls her into his arms, and she shudders, clinging. (She was never that kind of girl back when she was with Sam.) When Dean carefully turns her, sliding her front to his back, she goes with it, leaning back. She’s tall, much taller than most girls, she knows this.

(Her mom’s doctor had told her mom that Jess would grow up to be six feet tall, her mom had freaked and hadn’t fed her protein until she was seven. Jess is still five nine.)

Dean hooks his chin on top of her shoulder (the good one), and slides a hand down her body. Her breathing speeds up and she should be stopping this because shit, she just met this guy, but then it’s been four years (or, almost) since she’s been touched in a sexual manner by an attractive guy.

And holy hell, but Dean is fucking hot.

His fingers slip down and open her jeans, sliding in and cupping her through her underwear. She bites back a moan, and Dean grins against her skin. “Is this okay?”

“Uh huh,” she says breathlessly, straining towards Dean’s hand. He slips two fingers under the elastic band of her plain underwear, sliding the tips through the wetness already pooling there.

Dean’s fingers dabble skillfully in the slick he finds before dragging it up to coat her clit. She gasps as he rubs his middle and index finger in small concentric circles there. “Do you like it... fast or slow?” Dean growls in her ear and she shudders.

“Oh fuck,” is her first response, and she bucks into his hand. “Fast. Light, and fast.”

His fingers quicken, and she’s writhing against him, moaning into her fist, holding onto his upper arm with short fingernails. “How long’s it been, Jessie?”

“Four... oh... four years.” She arches up as he firms up his strokes against her soaked flesh.

He chuckles against her shoulder. “Go ahead and come,” he suggests, “we have all night.”

Shockingly, she does; crying out against her fist and shuddering in his arms. When she comes down, she can feel him hard against the small of her back, and she rubs her ass back against his pelvis. This should be Sam, her brains screams at her. (She tells her brain to shut up.)

Dean lets go of her waist, and she wastes no time stripping herself of the layers she’s wearing, turning to see him doing the same. If she thought Dean was attractive with his clothes on, he’s ten times better without. Despite how drunk he seemed when Sam brought up to the room, he’s hard, already red and leaking against his belly. Her eyes are drawn to it, and he smirks, slinging a hand around himself and tugging a little. “Got any condoms, Jessie?”

 

“Fuck condoms,” she says. “At this point, do they even matter?”

He laughs, and he sounds drunk, at least. “Pregnancy?”

Jess goes to her knees before him and grins up at him. Sam used to call it her filthy smile and Dean swallows audibly. “So pull out.”

He tumbles her to the bed, pushing one of her legs up against her chest. “You sure, Jessie?”

“Fuck, just do it,” she groans. Dean’s too big to have just jumped in without help, but Jess welcomes the burn. (It makes her feel real.)

She scrapes her nails down Dean’s chest just to listen to him moan. She wraps one leg around his waist and arches her back. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

Jess grins. (There’s a part of her that’s yelling, telling her to stop now while she’s ahead, because this is Dean, Sam’s brother Dean and she should be fucking Sam.)

But then Dean slides in the whole way and holy shit it feels good. Dean chuckles and it sends sparks up her spine. (And are she and Sam even still together? How does that work anyway if it’s been almost four years?)

When Dean starts moving, it’s with a sinuous rolling movement, that makes her gasp and clutch at his arms. “Fuck, Dean, fuck!” she says as one of his hands slips down between them and rubs at her clit.

The sex is over probably embarrassingly quickly, barely a few passes of his fingers over her and a few short strokes and they’re both crying out. Dean laughs quietly against her neck when he collapses against her. “Son of a bitch,” he says. “Son of a bitch we shouldn’t have done that.”

Jess grinds the heel of her hand into her eye socket. “Probably not,” she agrees quietly. “I should... talk to Sam, shouldn’t I?” When she laughs, its wet and thick.

She didn’t even realize she was crying.

 

*

 

Sam is sitting up on their old couch when she finally comes down the stairs. He’s got his head resting on his hands and Jess feels a bolt of guilt so crippling that she almost falls. “Sam,” she says quietly. His head jerks up.

“Jess,” he responds. “You okay?”

She winces. “Like you didn’t hear everything that just happened.”

Sam smiles a little, holding out one arm in an unspoken request for a hug. She willingly collapses into him and cuddles right in. (She’s spent so long feeling like a freak, but Sam makes her feel small.)

“It’s okay, you know,” Sam tells her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I understand.”

She opens one eye to stare at him. “I just screwed your brother and you say it’s okay? I think I missed something.”

His smile fades a little but he presses another kiss to her forehead. “Everyone’s a little in love with Dean, Jess. I don’t blame you.” He tugs her down to lay on his chest. (They used to watch TV like this, so long ago.) “I wasn’t even sure if you were still mad at me.”

“No, not even a little,” she says immediately. “Not for years. Jesus, Sam. I missed you so fucking much.” She snuggles deeper into him, hiding her tear wet face in his chest. “God, I can’t believe you’re still alive.”

His chuckle rumbles under her cheek. “Takes a lot to kill me, Jess. I’m sorry I was gone for so long. I just... I figured... well. You understand.”

She nods, smearing tears across his t-shirt. “I’m still sorry.”

Sam strokes her hair, closing his eyes. “Nah, don’t be. Everyone is a little in love with Dean,” he repeats.

Jess looks up at him, eyes wet and red. “Even you?”

His chest hitches under hers. “Me more than anyone else, I think,” he confesses.

They fall silent then, but she doesn’t fall asleep, not for a while. She revels in listening to Sam breathe.

And that’s when she has the idea.

 

*

 

“We should leave,” Dean says first thing in the morning. “It isn’t safe to stay in one spot. And Sam says there’s a survivor’s colony,” he adds when Jess makes a face. “You seem to be doing okay here, but... it won’t last.”

Jess can feel tears spring to her eyes (and how stupid is that?) She’s known that she has to leave for years, but on her own she never could before. Now she’s reunited with Sam so maybe she has a chance. “I have some things...” Her voice cracks and she’s absolutely mortified. “I have to say good bye to the lions.”

Dean stares at her for a second before nodding once. “Yeah, okay.”

Sam links her hand with his and he smiles at her. “Can I go with you?”

She nods. “Yeah, you’ll like them.” She launches into a narrative as she finishes breakfast, sparing a quick look at the window for the weather. Sunny. Dean mumbles something about gathering things and packing. She waves a hand and drags Sam out the door.

(It’s been four years and she has a city to say good bye to.)

Jess gets the rifle off the roof (thank goodness it didn’t rain the night before, because then it’d be ruined, and it’s her favorite.) She takes Sam straight to the middle of the pridelands, and settles down to wait. It’s early, early enough that the lionesses are probably still hunting. Thor comes over first, hoping for a snack or twelve, and he lays near her, not quite touching.

They’ve come a long way since he was the cub who clawed open her arm. It’s hot, for October, and the sun is beating down on them. Sam tugs off the plaid over shirt he’s wearing and tosses it onto a concrete partition near by. Jess stares.

Sam was always a looker, back when they were in college together, but the years had filled him out, honed him and sculpted him. She looks over at Thor who seems to be sleeping and tackles Sam. She should have been with him the night before, but now she can make up for it.

Jess straddles him, pushing up his t-shirt. “Hi,” she says, leaning over him. “I’ve missed you.”

He smiles, his dimples deep. “Hi,” he replies. “I’ve missed you too.” He pulls her down for a kiss and Jess is immediately transported three (four?) Years back in time. Sam still kisses the same.

She grinds down on top of him, and Sam groans into her mouth. Fuck, she missed this. She rolls her hips against his clothed erection, their jeans blocking most of the sensation. Sam finally grunts in frustration, still kissing her, and reaches between them to free her from her shorts.

She shimmies out of them, and Sam groans again when he feels that she’s bare underneath. “Laundry day,” she explains. Sam laughs against the skin of her neck and rolls them over. The ridge of his cock presses against her through his jeans and the rough denim makes her gasp and arch. “Fuck, Sam....”

He chuckles again, and kisses down her neck, pulling her shirt over her head when it gets in the way. She fucks him the same way she fucked Dean. Fast, hot, dirty and it feels so fucking good she screams.

Literally. (It’s probably a good thing it’s broad daylight out.) Sam, still mostly dressed, flips her onto her stomach, urging up her hips and slams into her without much preparation. Not that she needs it, she’s soaked through, her juices running down her thighs. Her jeans are pooled around one ankle, her shirt over by Thor somewhere.

The zipper on Sam’s jeans digs into her ass when he thrusts forward and she scrambles on the ground to get her arms under her. He pushes her down a little when she gets on all fours, and she arches her back.

He doesn’t even need to touch her clit, she comes simply from the fucking. Twice.

Sam follows soon after, pulling out with a curse and emptying onto the ground. Her arms collapse and Sam curls up next to her, kissing the back of her head. “I love you,” he confesses quietly. “I never stopped.”

“And I was wrong,” she says, just as quiet. “I was wrong and I did need you and I am so sorry we fought.” Sam chuckles. “I can’t even remember what we were fighting about, Christ. Love you too, Sam. Jesus, so much.”

When they finally sit up, Jess is a little sunburned and the lions are looking at them. She blushes, a little, because they seem confused and she wonders how long they’ve been there. Sam hands her all her clothes that she lost, and after she dresses, she gives each lion a hug in turn.

Zephyr’s the only one who won’t submit to it, and she says, loudly, because she doesn’t care that they’re lions, they fucking understand, damn it. “I’m leaving. We’re... we’re packing up and going East. We can’t stay here anymore. It’s too... dangerous.”

She turns back to Sam. “Let’s go back to Dean,” he says. “We’ve been gone a while.”  
Jess looks back at the lion pride, and feels her eyes get wet with tears. “Good-bye,” she whispers.

 

*

 

Their first night camping is quiet. It’s scary, actually, how quiet it is. Sam and Dean are frighteningly vigilant, and Jess is left wondering what the hell they were out doing before the world ended. Jess huddles in her meager sleeping bag, freezing, frightened and alone. Dean is out by the cars, or that’s where he said he was going, and Sam is patrolling the perimeter of the tent. She’s supposed to take over for Dean in four hours but she hasn’t slept a wink and she was supposed to sleep for six.

She hears rustling outside her trunk bed and forces herself not to panic. It’s probably Sam, patrolling. It’s not some huge scary animal, or a Darkseeker. When she opens her eyes, nothing will be there.

Jess opens her eyes to darkness, and the night is silent. And also empty.

She sighs in relief, nearly missing her name being called softly from somewhere to her left. “Jessica...” It has to be Sam, because he’s the only one who calls her Jessica.

“Yeah?” she calls back, just as softly.

“Jessica...”

Jess sits up and looks out into the deep blackness of the woods. “Sam?” She takes a couple steps out and sees him move behind a tree. It must be safe if he’s suggesting what she thinks he’s suggesting. She stumbles a little, over a tree root, her fingers scraping against bark when she grabs the nearest trunk to stop herself from falling on her face. (Something she considers generally unsexy.)

“Sam?” she calls again, a whispered shout.

“Jessica...” his voice comes from in front of her, just beyond her reach.

There are marks on the tree she’s holding, and she finally fumbles out her small maglight. The marks look like claws scored them, and she shivers a little. (Do Darkseekers have claws?)

“Sam?” she says again, this time uncertainly. “Sam, come on, this is scary.”

Movement again, just to her right and she strains her eyes to focus on her boyfriend. She swings the light up and catches him.

It’s not Sam.

She screams, her voice loud and unnatural in the otherwise still night. Faintly, she can hear Sam and Dean yelling from their campsite, and the creature (Sam, how could she think it was Sam?) steps towards her.

Jess scrambles backwards, nearly tripping over the same tree root. The thing stalks her, making no noise. “Son of a bitch,” she swears because really, she hasn’t been stupid enough to move away from anywhere safe without her rifle since the last time she got bit by a Darkseeker.

Now she feels pretty fucking stupid.

At least, until Sam comes out of nowhere and shoots a flare into the creature’s chest. It screams louder than she had, and disappears into the darkness.

“Well,” Sam says thoughtfully, his hand a death grip on her arm. “This suddenly explains why there aren’t any zombies around.”

She tries to say something, but he lifts her up for a kiss.

“Sam, what the hell was that?” she asks, once he’s done kissing her.

“A wendigo,” Dean answers her from behind them. Sam whirls, dragging her with him (and even though she’s five fucking nine, he still manages to make her feel like she’s three foot nothing.) Dean takes his time coming forward, bringing her in for a kiss of his own with Sam’s arms still linked about her waist.

They take her back to the truck and tell her about the lives they once led. The lies they’ve always told and the reason Sam left her behind four years ago.

Jess had no idea that there were scarier things out there, worse than the Darkseekers in her nightmares.

“What are we going to do with the Wendigo?” she asks as dawn creeps up over the trees. “It is dead, right?”

“Probably,” Sam says doubtfully.

“Leave it,” Dean says after a moment. “It gave us a safe place to stay tonight. Let it kill more Darkseekers.”

Even running on no sleep and adrenaline, they manage to make good time.

 

*

 

Their second night is much less smooth. In fact, compared to the night before, the second night is a nightmare. They make it to a sizable city, abandoned and with no sign of life. Jess spends the evening before the sun goes down painting coordinates on the side of a building.

Just in case.

They bunk down in a basement of some building, Sam had suggested staying somewhat higher up, but Dean had wanted to be closer to the ground, just in case something went wrong. There were two exits, the front, and a door that looked like it had been dug out of the wall. It went into a tunnel that led out into another building. It was their only real escape route.

Sam and Dean laid out salt lines and explained (more or less) patiently to Jess why they were doing it. The humans who hadn’t been turned into Darkseekers would have been killed and eaten by Darkseekers. (If that wasn’t a violent death, Jess didn’t know what was.)

Jess sleeps out of sheer exhaustion, her rifle under her pillow and a hand gun on the floor by her bed.

She wakes up four hours into her sleep with a Darkseeker on her. How it got in, she’s unable to guess, but she bucks it off her, screaming as it takes a chunk of her hair with it. She unloads the handgun into its face, yelling the whole time. The body is still twitching once she runs out of bullets and she looks around taking stock. Dean’s out cold, blood at his temple and Sam is nowhere to be found.

She reloads, leaping out of the bed and sliding on her shoes in practically one swoop. Dean is still breathing, but there’s already a bruise forming by the side of his head. (How did he get it? Did the Darkseeker hunt her out? What if they were following her? Oh shit, what if they were following her?)

Jess shakes Dean, hyper alert and terrified. “Dean!” she whispers, “Dean!” He opens his eyes, flinching at the light. “Dean what the fuck happened?”

“Dunno,” he mumbles, covering his eyes. “It came through the door.”

She gives him her hand gun. “You guard the room,” she says, her teeth chattering. (She isn’t cold.) “I’ll find Sam.”

“No,” he protests instantly (she knew he would.) He tries to stand but stumbles, blinking blood out of his eyes. “I can...”

“Fall over, is what you can,” she says sharply. “You might have a concussion. Pack our things, we have to get the fuck out of here.”

When this is over, she can cry and freak out then, she thinks logically. First they have to find Sam. She creeps up the stairs to the kitchen area and sees nothing out of the ordinary. No Sam. The living room is similarly empty. No Sam. All the rooms of the house are devoid of life.

Dean’s in no condition to go anywhere, that much is certain. She’s going to have to go outside. She opens the door slowly, wincing when it creaks a little. She doesn’t have to look far. Sam is being dragged by a female Darkseeker. Jess shrieks in fury and bounds down the stairs, rifle in one hand, UV flashlight in the other.

The Darkseeker looks up, and it says, very clearly, “you!” before it drops Sam and takes off. Jess is dumbfounded for a moment before she makes it to Sam’s side.

It takes less time to wake him and they manage to get back under the cover of the house. “It said something,” Jess insists. “It said “you!” like I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

Sam (who was just knocked out, not concussed) looks thoughtful. “Maybe they’re evolving?”

She shudders. “Oh fuck. I hope not.”

Dean, still a little loopy and looking like he went ten rounds with a semi, clears his throat and says, “maybe it was possessed.”

Jess snorts out a laugh and opens her mouth to thank Dean for the much needed levity but both brothers look thoughtful. “I thought that was a myth,” Sam says after a second. “We’ve never run across a possession before.”

Dean shrugs one shoulder. “No one else to possess, yeah?”

It’s a scary thought.

They don’t sleep much that night either.

 

*

 

One thing was abundantly clear once the sun rose. They were going to have to leave a car behind. Jess didn’t want to leave her truck, it was large, had plenty of space, and got pretty good gas mileage.

Dean wasn’t leaving the Impala.

They fought for an hour, with Sam sorting their things into two piles. He was done before they were and managed to pack up the Impala with everything they needed, plus the trailer full of gas.

“Hey,” he finally cut in after Jess had exhausted her vocabulary of vicious names (a few of which had Dean looking surprised and faintly proud). “Not sure how to get this hitched to the Impala. Help?”

It’s solved as easily as that and Jess glares sullenly at him from her spot on the ground. “You’re a dick,” she tells him.

Sam shrugs one shoulder looking unrepentant. “Sorry.”

The third night, after that, is much easier.

They pull off the side of the road and make camp there. There are no trees, no caves, nothing around for anything to hide in. They can’t have a fire, but Jess has a cooking stove and maybe it won’t be as bad.

She lays quietly in the sleeping bag, ears hyper tuned to Dean pacing by his car. Sam breathes evenly beside her and even though its been four years, she still remembers what he sounds like when he isn’t sleeping but wants to be.

Back before everything ended, Sam used to see counselors about his lack of sleeping. No one had wanted to give him sleeping pills so they’d given him various breathing techniques that only worked once in a blue moon. “So,” she said quietly, “what’s on your mind?”

(Talking helped him best.)

“Nothing.”

Jess rolls her eyes, glad of the darkness. “I can hear the wheels in your head grinding your melatonin into useless powder. Try again.”

He sighs. “What if we don’t find the survivor’s colony?”

“Then we go back to Palo Alto.” Her response is immediate. She left the lions behind, but there was a safe place, or what passed for safe back there. It would be a shitty drive and she’s not entirely sure they have enough gas, but they’ll make do.

“What if we do find the survivor’s colony?”

“Then the fight is over and we breathe for a little while.” They used to do this back in college when Sam’s worries overcame his sleepy mind and she learned early on that the faster her responses the more likely he was to believe them. Maybe because she was sure of herself. Maybe because he just wanted an opinion that wasn’t his own. Either way, she hopes it still works the same now.

“Are you really okay, from last night?”

“Yes,” she says instantly. It’s true, and she’s been through worse though she’s not about to tell Sam that.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” the answer is just as instantaneous.

“Do you want to sleep with my brother again?”

“Yes.” She cringes as soon as the word comes out of her mouth. “That was a dirty trick, Sam.”

Sam chuckles humorlessly. “So why don’t you go out there and seduce him? It wouldn’t take much.”

Jess rolls onto her belly and sits up, glaring at him. “I’m going to take that as a compliment because I’m so hot, not because I’m the only thing with tits and pussy around and that I’ll just do.” Even in the gloom of the tent, she can see him wince. “And besides, I want to sleep with you again, too.”

“You want to sleep with both of us?” Sam sounds amused. “Greedy girl.”

“Hey,” she says with a cavalier grin. “I get two of the hottest survivors around. You know what kind of people could have rolled into my land? I could have gotten our old skeev-tastic Biology teacher.”

Sam shudders. “Well, then, go out and get Dean. You slept with me last, it’s his turn.”

Jess leans over and smacks him. “What if I don’t want to take turns?” Sam’s eyes pop open wide, and he looks shocked. “I want,” she purrs, giving him her sexiest grin, “you both at the same time.”

Just outside the tent she can hear Dean startle and swear, dropping whatever he was holding. “Fuck,” he hisses. The tent opens and Dean sticks his head in. The light from his flashlight is bright and she can see he’s hard in his pants already. “You two are fuckin’ loud.”

“Yeah, and?” Jess takes the flashlight from him, hanging it on the hook in the center of the tent. “There’s nothing out there, Dean. Come join us.” She kisses him before he can say “no”, her hands busy at his belt. She’s already learned that Dean likes action over words and she’s pretty happy to show him exactly how much she wants him.

Him, and Sam, who has crowded up against her back and slides a hand down her front to cup her pussy through her jean shorts. (They’re moveable and not too short so when she needs to move, she can. It’s ideal, for the most part.) He rubs at her slowly through them, and it’s fucking maddening because jeans are too thick.

She groans against Dean’s mouth and pulls his cock out of his boxers and jeans. It’s going to have to be fast, because they don’t have enough time for a full on sexcapade. Jess is going to make it count, though. Dean buries a hand in her hair when she sucks him down. (Because, and she’ll never tell him this, but he’s not as long or as wide as Sam so it’s easier to give him a blow job and she’s out of practice.)

Dean’s grip tightens when she groans - Sam’s hand is busy at her fly and slipping into them to rub over her clit. She’s wearing panties still, and the friction is delicious. She arches her hips in circles as he keeps rubbing, her ass against his erection. She slides her mouth almost all the way off Dean, giving the head of his cock a good hard suck before swallowing back down. She looks up through her eyelashes and Dean’s face is enough to soak her underwear.

He looks debauched, his face slack and those lips half parted. His teeth are biting into his bottom lip and if she could bottle that face, she would. Sam strips off her jeans and underwear, letting it pool around her knees where she kneels. She can’t spread her legs anymore than the pants allow and she pulls off Dean to growl in frustration.

“Ah,” Sam checks her. “Stop complaining.” (When they were together before, he used to get off on restraining her. She never asked why, because it was fucking hot. Still is.)

She goes back to sucking on Dean’s cock when he whines, looking like the sound is involuntary, and slides slowly down until her nose is buried against his pelvic bone. “Son of a fucking bitch,” he bites out, gravel rough. “Jesus, Sam.”

Jess grins around him, and swallows. “Told you,” Sam says smugly before plunging two fingers into her. She’s wet, so fucking wet, and she groans loudly. Dean echoes her and she can’t help the noises she’s making around his cock, because Sam is so good with his hands.

He’s rubbing her g-spot with every stroke, his thumb pressed over her clit and she’s coming in an embarrassingly short time. Dean doesn’t hold out much longer than her, and she swallows him down as he comes. She pulls off, rubbing his thigh with one hand, and stroking the last of the come from his cock so she can taste it. He’s sweeter than Sam, she catalogs, a little thinner too, like he jerks off more than Sam does. (Actually, she thinks, that’s probably not a bad estimation.)

Sam is hard behind her, and his jeans must be digging in uncomfortably at this point, but he lets her recover, her head pressed to Dean’s hip. Sam lays back, undoing his pants and shoving them down just far enough to free his raging erection. Jess tugs Dean forward as she squirms backward, bringing Dean stumbling to his knees.

He helps lower her onto his brother’s cock, very carefully not touching Sam. He does, however, kneel on either side of Sam’s legs, to kiss Jess as she rides him. Dean sets their pace, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips. When she’s moaning loudly (too loudly) against his mouth, he slides a finger through the curls between her thighs and flicks quickly over her clit. (Just the way she likes it.)

If his finger slides over Sam’s cock where he’s thrusting inside her, no one says anything about it.

When Sam orgasms, she follows soon after, collapsing onto Dean’s chest with a final kiss. He rubs his finger over her clit just to watch her twitch and she swats at him. “I’ll take next watch,” she says, her voice a little hoarse and more than a little fucked out.

“You sure?” Dean asks, “you don’t want to try and get some more sleep?”

“No,” she answers, feeling jittery. “You guys get some sleep.” She dresses quickly, kisses both of them and leaves as Sam explains that sex has always amped her up.

The horizon is still black with the darkness before dawn and she wonders if she’s ever going to sleep again.

Also, she’s kind of starting to smell.

 

*

 

The fourth night goes as smoothly as the third. They’re in North Carolina somewhere, they made good time. Sunlight and their new system seems to work well with them. Jess sleeps the first half of the morning away in the back seat. It’s only a little uncomfortable, but she manages to get used to being curled up with her pillows and a blanket. After lunch on the side of the road, and some coffee to wake her up, she drives while Dean sleeps in the back and Sam dozes in the front.

Then they switch again, Dean in the front, Sam driving and Jess in the back. Sam, no matter which position he tries, no matter how he contorts his body is just too damn tall for the backseat of the Impala.

They sleep in the tent, in shifts, but find less trouble the more in the middle of nowhere they are. Jess sits on the hood of the Impala and watches the moon crawl across the sky and wishes for her lions.

Sam joins her around four in the morning. “You can go get some sleep,” he offers and she shrugs. She’s not tired, and feels like crap. Too much caffeine, not enough normal sleep.

“Things will be better when we get there, right?” she asks rhetorically.

“In theory,” Sam answers and she’s relieved he doesn’t lie to her.

Her stomach rolls uncomfortably and she wonders for a second if she’s pregnant. (Wouldn’t that be the nail on the coffin?) Of course, that’s when Dean bursts out of the tent and vomits into the bushes.

Only she and Dean get sick. Sam laughs at them the whole time. He told them not to eat the fish.

 

*

 

They stop in New York, close to nowhere and Jess has a bad feeling. A really bad feeling. She sleeps fitfully, and only because Sam banned her from having coffee the entire time she was puking. She and Dean drove for most of the day, leaving Sam to sleep in the front seat as best as he was able. (And he was pretty able, the fucker.)

He stays up for two watches straight without an issue, and at three in the morning, he yells a warning. It takes less time for Jess to sit up before the Darkseeker rips its way through the walls of the tent. She rolls for her rifle but it gets there first, throwing it to one side.

She shines the light in his face and it squeals, just before Dean takes its head off with a machete. Sam keeps shooting at them as they swarm over the Impala and Jess goes for her rifle again. A Darkseeker leaps on her back and she cries out, before a low rumbling roar echoes over the field.

It sounds like Xarai.

The Darkseeker is suddenly thrown from her back with the force of a trainwreck and Jess turns her head to see four paws on either side of her shoulders. The lions. “Holy shit!” Dean shouts and suddenly there are more of them, Zephyr, Isis, Ajax, Evani and Kenda, all leaping over the Impala and tearing their way through Darkseekers left and right.

Jess rolls to her back, pushing Xarai out of the way and lifts up her rifle. Xarai nudges her, maybe to see if she’s hurt, before leaping into the fray.

In the end, Jess only gets a few shots off. The lions take care of the rest. When the Darkseekers are dead, Jess gets to her feet to throw her arms around Isis and Evani, listening to their strange loud purrs. She scratches Ajax behind his ears, ruffling his mane and presses her thanks into Zephyr’s shoulder.

“They’ve been following us the entire time,” she says to them excitedly. “They... where’s Thor?” She turns to Xarai who looks down, and they don’t need to guess. Jess feels tears spring to her eyes and she scrubs at them. She can imagine Thor, his poor twisted foot unable to keep up.

She gives Xarai an extra hug before going back to bed.

The three of them sleep safely and silently for the rest of the night, with the lions there to keep watch.

In the morning, once they’re all awake, the lions melt back into the scenery and if it weren’t for the heap of rotting corpses a few feet away, Jess would never have known they were there. They set fire to the bodies and leave.

Not long now.

 

*

 

They’ve been driving all day, and Jess isn’t looking forward to finding another cave to hide out in, not knowing if they’ll survive the night. They entered Vermont four hours earlier, but neither Sam nor Dean actually know where the survivor’s colony actually is. Only that it’s “in the mountains, Jess” and that she should “stop worrying so much, Jess.”

She’s cold, she smells, and she’s terrified out of her mind. They fought off one attack already, she’s not sure she can do it again. (She misses her lions dearly, keeps looking for them out the windows.) Sam is sleeping in the front of the Impala, and Dean is driving with a stony expression on his face. He doesn’t want to stop either.

They’re both so busy ignoring the world that she’s the one who sees the sign. “Stop!” she says suddenly and her voice is harsh. (How long has it been since she last spoke?) “Stop, Dean, look!”

It used to be a road sign for some place in the middle of nowhere, Vermont. Someone painted it over. “If you see this,” Dean reads, his voice rough and hoarse, “you have fifty miles to go.”

“Holy shit,” she says. “Holy shit, fifty miles!”

Dean’s whooping nearly deafens her and it wakes Sam, who grumbles in anger. At least until they point out the sign to him. Then his whoops join in, and they laugh, high five and kiss right there parked in the middle of the road. They made it.

They made it.

 

 

 ****

Part Three

The house the “Mayor” gives them is actually pretty nice. It’s three bedrooms, but they only use one, the other bedrooms are used for various and sundry. The smallest bedroom is their office. Sam’s laptop survived so far, though there’s no more internet, and they leave each other amusing post-it notes all over it.

Dean gets a job fixing motors and electronics, something he’s good at and enjoys doing. Sam goes to work in their library, cataloging, labeling and shelving to the Dewey Decimal system. (Dean says he’s insane for knowing the system in the first place.)

Jess bakes. She was offered a position in their ragtag army but she’s tired of fighting. So tired of fighting. Some of the other women who knit and plant invite her to join them but after the first day she realizes that she doesn’t have a green bone in her body and she’s useless as sewing. So she bakes. Cakes, muffins, pies, and everything she can think of. Dean’s certainly pleased with that development, he keeps at least two out of every three pies she bakes.

The second bedroom that they don’t sleep in is her room. She’s painted all the walls different colors and draws murals out for the other buildings in their compound. She worries incessantly when Sam and Dean go out on raiding parties, and misses having her lions living right outside her door.

It’s a good life. Safe, and without the constant worry of Darkseekers invading. Jess spends her afternoons curled up against Dean’s side, reading a book or listening to music.

(He usually steals the book and fucks her against the leather couch until she screams.)

On days that Dean works, Sam comes home from the library early and cooks dinner with her. (Well, she cooks, he hinders.)

Dean comes home one day to find flour all over everything, especially Sam. Jess is cackling up a storm, bent over double, using the counter to hold her up. Dean is dumbfounded, until suddenly Jess is in front of him, and just as suddenly, he too is covered in flour.

“Fuck, Jessie!” he cries, rubbing his hands frantically through his gelled hair, trying to displace the powder. “What the hell was that for?”

She lifts one bare shoulder and grins, mirth spilling over in her eyes. “Just ‘cause,” she says. (One of Dean’s favorite things about her is that she wears barely any clothing during the day and none at night.)

“Oh, it’s on,” Dean shouts, and he grabs Jess around the waist, tossing her off to one side to get to the flour on the counter.

“No! Sam!” She struggles to get around Dean gesturing futilely for Sam to stop him. But Sam holds up his hands in surrender, and backs away. “Sam, you traitor!” Dean picks up the flour and holds it tauntingly over her head, until she grins once.

“I don’t like that look, Jessie,” he says threateningly.

“You better give me back my flour, Mister, or else I’m not making any more pies.” Dean’s mouth drops open and he puts the flour down instantly.

He pouts and crosses his arms over his chest. “You don’t fight fair, Jessie.”

She grins again, her mouth wide as she licks her tongue over her teeth. “I’ll make it up to you,” she promises. “Right now, even.” She seizes Sam and Dean’s hands, dragging them off to their bedroom. She’s naked before they get there. Her tube top is hanging on the bannister, her jean shorts in the puddle at the top of their stairs. “Strip,” she commands them.

Sam and Dean exchange a look before complying. Sex between them is never planned and Jess is determined to show them that its okay for them to be together without her around. It’s like they’re afraid they’ll chase her off, or scare her away. (And they’re idiots because they’re hot.)

It’s time for her to put on the pants in the relationship. “Sam,” she purrs, pulling him close and tugging his ear lobe into his mouth for a kiss. “I want you to kiss Dean.” Sam startles, pulling his head away from her lips.

“What?”

“No, what, just kiss.” Sam eyes Dean for a second, like he’s asking permission.

Dean chews on his lip for a long second before tugging Sam in close. It isn’t the first time they’ve kissed since starting this, but it’s the first time Jess feels like it’s going to mean something. With Jess standing between them, Dean lays his lips against Sam’s, and Jess has a front row seats.

(And its fucking molten.)

Sam kisses with his whole body, he always has. He leans in, chest to chest, hip to hip and pulls her as close as he can. Even with Jess sandwiched between them, he still hauls Dean in closer. Dean groans, but he sounds surprised and Jess hides her smile against his collarbone.

(She knows what it’s like to be completely taken over by Sam.)

Jess slips out from under Sam’s arm to get a better view as they kiss, and she suddenly realizes something. It strikes her, right in the solar plexus. Sam wants Dean. A lifetime ago, when she’d slept with Dean for the first time, Sam had said something about everyone being a little in love with his brother.

Himself, most of all.

The way that Sam is kissing his brother now speaks volumes, at least to her. He draws Dean in, hands cradling his face close, crowding Dean’s body with his own. It’s the same way he used to kiss her back in Stanford. Possessive.

For a second she feels something that feels like loss, before she pushes it away. She started this. Now she’s going to finish it.

She comes up behind Dean, running her hands over his back and around to his chest. She undoes the buttons of his shirt there, striping it from him while he kisses Sam. When she cups his erection through his jeans, his hips buck up and bump her hand into Sam’s own impressive bulge.

They both groan and she grins. Slowly she divests them of their clothing while they kiss, and Sam seems almost surprised to realize they’re both as naked as she is. Dean often gets gun-shy at moments like this and Jess refuses to let him, this time. When he starts to pull away from them, she ducks under Sam’s arm to crowd up against Dean’s back.

He has nowhere to go, Sam in front of him and Jess behind him. She wraps her arms around Dean’s back, and sweeps her hands down his chest. Dean jerks, his hips jumping into Sam’s. They both groan and she grins against his shoulder blades.

She leads them to the bed, pulling them down together, urging Sam onto the bottom. When Dean rests his hips against his brothers, they both gasp, mouths separating. “Jess?” Sam asks softly, his eyes confused.

“I want to see,” she says. “I want to watch.”

That’s all it takes on Sam’s end. He’s ready, even willing, to do what she wants. (And she wants to see them fuck.) He domineers Dean’s mouth with his own, grinding his hips up into Dean’s.

Dean’s all for it, to her surprise. He kisses back with gusto, settling into the vee of Sam’s thighs. They kiss, and rub and Jess gets to watch the orgasms come over them. Dean’s grunting, hips twitching as he tries to find the right angle for what he wants. She’s about to reach a hand between them and help him, but Sam beats her to it.

He wraps a palm around Dean’s erection and within seconds, Dean is coming. Sam follows soon after, and Dean rests his forehead on Sam’s shoulder for a second, panting in the aftermath.

“We should get Jess,” he says as they breathe.

She’s so worked up that when they converge on her, two mouths over her clit and two fingers, one from each of them, inside her, she comes twice in as many minutes.

They lay in bed together, Jess’s ears still ringing with her own screaming. “So,” she says, still a little breathless. “Does this mean Dean’s going to move off the couch?”

At least she made Sam laugh.

Dean moves into the room, takes up more than his fair share of the middle spot and Jess realizes, somewhat painfully that she was a stand in. Sam looked to Dean first, and Dean to Sam. They both deferred to her, usually... but they were together, first and foremost.

Dean seems to figure out she’s drawing away from them in small subtle ways.

Sam doesn’t, but she’s not surprised.

She’s not Dean.

 

*

 

She sneaks out through a side door to visit the lions. The first time she tried to go through the front door, the head of the Military division freaked out and screamed at her. Dean had come to her rescue but now she’s branded as ‘that crazy cat lady’. Whatever, she can live with the name.

The guard at the east door lets her through, (“I like cats too, Miss Jessica. Come back before dark, please.”) and she goes and plays with her lions for a few hours. The first time she managed to get out there, she mourned Thor so heavily she looked like ten miles of bad road and her boys spent the night trying to make her feel better.

The third or fourth time someone finds her missing and comes after her. “Hey, Moore, you realize those are wild animals right?”

She freezes because A, she recognizes that voice, and B, she’s in the register as Jessica Winchester, Sam’s wife. Jess turns, and there’s Brady. Her first friend from Stanford. “Holy motherfucking shit,” she shrieks, startling Kenda and Xarai. Brady laughs, and holds out his arms.

Jess flings herself into them, hugging him tight enough to hurt. “Miss me, Moore?”

“Brady, how are you not dead?” She demands, holding him at arms length.

He shrugs one shoulder. “I seem to be immune.”

She laughs against his shoulder, and starts dragging him towards the wall. “Have you gone to see Sam yet? He’ll love to see you.” Waving good bye to the lions, who are largely ignoring her anyway, she pulls Brady through the side door.

Sam will be over joyed to see his old best friend from college. Dean, she thinks, will be less than pleased.

She’s right.

 

*

 

Eventually, they hear about a cure, how a man in New York City had survived just like Jess and found a cure for the virus and died to save the world. She thinks it’s very noble and heroic but Sam and Dean treat it like an every day occurrence.

(Of course, with what they used to fight on a day to day basis, they may be right.)

All over the complex, people are singing the praises of a man named Robert Neville. There aren’t many scientists in their safe community, and surprisingly it’s Sam who joins them to help figure out how to make the blood they have into a serum.

He’s gone, night and day, and Dean misses him so acutely he barely touches Jess. Finally, after a week of the most ridiculous silent treatment she’s ever been subjected to, Jess goes to Sam. Clearly Dean is not going to do it.

“Dude,” she says, hands on her hips. “You’re a dick.”

Sam actually looks surprised. “Uh?” he says inelegantly, caught halfway between movements. “How so?”

“I know that figuring out the cure is like, super important... but Sam, seriously?” She cocks a hip out and glares at him. “You are totally ignoring Dean and your boyfriend is seriously not pleased by this.”

He laughs, a little surprised. “I have not been ignoring Dean.”

“Shyeah you have, dickbag,” She contemplates punching him for a minute. “It’s been a fucking week since you came home.”

“Oh,” Sam says faintly. “Has it been that long?”

Jess throws her hands up in the air. “Christ, you’re oblivious.” Sam has the decency to look sheepish, and he puts down the vial of whatever he was holding. “Why aren’t you coming home, Sam?” she asks after a full minute of silence. “It can’t be just finding the cure.”

Sam chews on his lower lip for a second, his expression unsettled. “I...” he starts before sighing explosively. His shoulder slump and Jess is immediately struck with the need to go over and give him a hug.

(Dean calls the face Sam is wearing now his ‘kicked puppy dog face’.)

“Sam,” she says as gently as she’s able (because she’s still annoyed), “what’s really wrong?”

He mumbles something and Jess is distinctly unimpressed. She crosses her arms over her chest again and raises one eyebrow (an expression she learned from Dean.) “I wanted to give you two some time alone,” he finally says stiffly.

It floors her, a little. “Um,” she says, “why?”

He laughs but he doesn’t sound amused. “I’m not blind, okay? I know how Dean looks at you.”

Oh, she thinks and smiles. “You might know how he looks at me, but I know how he looks at you.” It brings him up short, mouth open like he’d had a retort but forgotten it before it could really form. “What, you think I haven’t noticed?” Jess says, and she’s so obviously taunting him that she hopes he figures it out before she has to go too far. “Sam, the man looks at you like the sun rises and sets in you.”

Sam’s expression goes from confused to discomfitted in less than a second. “He does not,” he retorts crossly. But he’s not meeting her eyes and Jess knows she’s right. (She also knows he knows she’s right, which is even better.)

“Just like he doesn’t kiss you first, when we have sex? Or just like he doesn’t even look at me until he’s made sure you’ve entered the room too? Or how about the way he always calls your name?”

Sam makes a face. “Not when he’s with you.”

She snorts. “Well, no, maybe not. But when it’s the three of us? Doesn’t matter if it’s me he’s fucking, he still says your name.” She grins when Sam blushes. “So look, come home, okay?”

Sam nods. “Yeah. Hey,” he adds, as she turns to go. When Jess turns back to look at him, he pulls her into his arms and kisses her. It’s a sweet, long, tender kiss, and it aches through her. “I love you.”

She smiles. “I know you do, baby. I love you too.”

She fixed it, but now she’s a little afraid that it was a good bye.

 

*

 

Jess knows something’s wrong the minute she enters their room. She knows Sam’s at the hospital. Dean isn’t inside, but she’s not surprised, it’s the middle of the day. He’s probably still working. But someone is definitely in the room. She turns, quickly, gasping.

“Jess, you okay?” It’s Brady. (Oh thank God, it’s only Brady.)

She laughs in relief. “Jesus Christ, Brady. You scared the hell out of me.”

His lips turn up in a smile, but it sets her on edge. “Oh,” he says, a little too mildly. “Not quite.”

Jess laughs it off, pulling on a robe from behind the door. “Is everything okay?” she asks, because he looks... weird.

“I’m fine,” he answers, and takes a step forward. She gasps again, because when the lamp light hits him, it looks like... ( _His eyes, what’s wrong with his eyes?!_ )

She hits the wall before she realizes she’s even moving. It doesn’t make sense because Brady never moved. He lounges against the door jamb, his mouth twisted in an approximation of a smile. “Oh Jess, you don’t get it do you?” She can’t move, can’t speak. Her eyes are riveted on his - they’re all black, from lid to lid and she’s never seen anything like that before.

“You were never supposed to live so long, Jess. Sorry. We need you to die.” He shrugs, winking. “But don’t worry, you’ll live long enough to say good-bye.” He salutes her and leaves the room. “Sam will be home soon,” he calls over his shoulder.

 _Oh,_ she thinks, when blood blooms across her belly. _Oh yes, this is_ right. Gravity fails her as she finds herself lifted up, sliding bloody trails up the wall of the room she, Sam and Dean had been sleeping in. At least, she thinks, or maybe she says it out loud, staring down at the man with the yellow eyes. Fire shoots outward, illuminating Sam’s horrified expression.

 _Yes, at least they will still have each other._

*End

Art Masterpost by vamptastica

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks SO much to my beta dehavilland - if not for you this story would NOT exist. <3333bb
> 
> My artist vamptastica. Your work is amazing and I think I'm in love with you.
> 
> The mods for Sam & Dean Minibang - thanks for running this! It was awesome.


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